


Hair Trigger

by fictive_frolic



Series: Thor One Shots [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, soft thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21591505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictive_frolic/pseuds/fictive_frolic
Summary: The Holidays are hard. Even with a perfect spouse, luckily Thor is really good at making things feel better.
Relationships: Thor/Reader
Series: Thor One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551238
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Hair Trigger

“Sweetheart,” your Asgardian husband murmured softly as he watched you put boots on. A look of rather grim determination on your face. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

You exhale slowly and sit up, “Yeah,” you tell him, “I really… I just don’t think it’s necessary for you to meet him.”

“He’s your father,” Thor protested gently.

“No,” you say, sounding tired, “He’s half my DNA. That’s all. He gave me daddy issues, anxiety, and addictive tendencies. That’s it.”

“You don’t sound like you want to be there,” Thor said carefully. “I don’t,” you answer.

“Then why are you putting yourself through this?” he asked. He’d heard the stories. He knew what kind of man he was. Before the wedding, when he’d asked why you hadn’t invited your father, it had all poured out like blood from a wound. In retrospect, Thor admitted to himself, he probably should have asked you sober. But, he didn’t regret the knowledge he’d gained.

“I wish I had a good answer for you,” you tell him, pulling yourself to your feet, blinking back the tears that were already threatening to fall. “I know,”“ you tell him, “exactly how this is going to end. Carrie and Brandon are going to leave with their feelings hurt. They waited 25 years to meet this asshole. And he’s going to bring his girlfriend, do a decade of parenting in a couple hours, and disappear again. And the next time he shows up in town, I’ll do this again. Like a fucking Alzheimer’s patient. I’ll do this again. And again. Because in the back of my head I want to believe it will all end differently. That he’ll have some grand epiphany and stop acting like a 20-year-old. But he won’t.”

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly as Thor pulls you gently into his arms. “I’d feel better if you’d allow me to go,” he rumbled, holding you close, “I don’t like seeing you this upset. It isn’t good for you.”

“He’s kind of like cancer,” you say after a moment, “I’d prefer he not spread into other areas of my life.” Thor shakes his head and tilts your chin up, “Then I will be near by,” he said, “if you call for me, I’ll be there. No questions asked.”

“No smiting,” you warn.

Thor frowns. He doesn’t know this man, but he feels a smiting might do him good. “No smiting,” he promises with a sigh, grateful at least that you’re allowing him to stay closer to you so he could go to you if you needed him.

__________

“You look good, kid,” the man on the bench tells you. Even from his spot, situated where he can subtly spy on proceedings, he can see you got your coloring from this man. The dark hair and bewilderingly colored eyes. “Ten years will do that,” you tell him, taking a seat to wait on the rest of the party. 

“Has it really been 10 years?” he says. You nod, “I was 17 the last time we did this,” you answer. 

“No,” he protests, “It can’t have been that long.”

Thor watches you pull out your phone and pull up a picture, “That’s what I looked like last time.”

The man is quiet. Very quiet for a long moment and finally shakes his head, “I can’t believe it’s been that long.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess,” you tell him.

“So. Where’s your husband, I was looking forward to meeting him?” he presses. You shrug, “He might be along later.” Thor smiles a little sadly. He wishes he were holding your hand. A buffer between you and the man. A safe place for you to hide. But seeing this, he understands your reluctance. This pain you feel isn’t one you want to share. It isn’t one you want him to experience first hand. When more people arrive, his view is obstructed when you’re all conducted to a table in another part of the building and Thor feels the unease in his stomach. He didn’t like that he couldn’t see you. But, he was reasonably sure that that man wouldn’t hurt you. If anyone was going to get hurt, it was going to be his inappropriately aged girlfriend when you snapped on her. 

Thor ordered another coffee and settled in. He knew it wouldn’t be too long. Maybe a couple hours at most. Thor mentally prepared to buy you a glass of wine and something to eat once you were less anxious and feeling like you could eat. 

_______

When his phone chimes, Thor pulls it out and glances at the screen.

Thor I can’t do this. 

Never fear, my love. I’m coming.

You don’t respond but Thor doesn’t need you to. He drops money on the table and lopes up the block quickly. Easily finding your table. Thor doesn’t hesitate, he introduces himself easily and kisses you hello fondly, happy that you melted into him, seeking safety. He hadn’t liked the anxiety and stress on your face. 

The inappropriately aged girlfriend was looking between you and your husband calmly, “So when are you having kids?” she asked.

Thor feels you tense up and brushes a soft kiss against your head, “When it’s time,” he answered mildly.

“So, does that mean you’re trying?” she pressed, oblivious.

You half turn to look at her and smile sweetly, “I can scrape my last three miscarriages into a onesie if you want to play grandma.” 

Things at the table grind to a crashing uncomfortable halt, across the table from you your half-sister catches Thor’s eye sympathetically and no one turns to look at the girlfriend. It’s well known that you have a tendency to make people regret prying. That you’ll make people uncomfortable as a way to make them stop asking. Evidently, this girl wasn’t warned. No one had bothered to tell her about the painful episodes that had lead to that answer. When she slipped away from the table to go hide in the bathroom, no one followed and Thor held on to you just a little more tightly. Things get less awkward after the 23-year-old girlfriend, who’s younger than all the kids sitting at the table leaves to lick her wounds. It’s a painful affair for you, Thor knows. Your biological father grills you about your choices. About why you’re making the wrong ones. Though Thor stays quiet, he can feel the anger bubbling. 

“One would think,” Thor rumbled quietly, “That if you wanted to criticize her, you would have been around when it was time to make the decisions.”

Thor saw the approving looks of your siblings and carefully brushed hair out of your eyes, kissing you softly. It wasn’t much longer. There wasn’t anything else eventful. It was mostly just awkward. Awkward and tense, conditions, Thor knows, that don’t leave you at your best.

Walking away, after all the good byes, Thor puts an arm around your shoulder and tips your chin up, kissing you softly.

“You’re not mad at me?” you murmur.

“No, darling,” he soothes, “Shh, not at all.” You nod, swallowing hard and he strokes your hair, “Let’s go have some playtime, hmm?” he coaxes, “Get you relaxed enough to sleep.”

“I don’t think I can do playtime,” you say, biting your lip, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Thor said gently, “It’s okay, my darling. It’s alright.” He wraps his arms around you gently and tilts your chin up, “What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him, looking away.

Thor pulls you close and lets you hide against him for a second, shivering. “Well,” he murmurs, “I think I know a good place to start.”

“Where’s that?” you ask.

“Let’s get you home and into some pajamas,” he said petting your hair, “Then we’ll cuddle up on the couch and you can inflict some terrible romantic comedy on me.”

“If they’re terrible why do you always cry when they break up?” you ask smiling.

“I do not cry,” he protests.

“You cried at the end of Pretty Woman. And Never Been Kissed,” you remind him.

“I had something in my eye,” he said blushing.

“Mhmm,” you hum giggling.

“Such a brat,” he rumbles, more fondness than heat in his voice as he opens your car door.

________

“Thor?” You murmur, looking up at him sleepily.

“Yes, my queen?” he hummed.

“How’d you get so good at making hot chocolate?” you ask. He smiles and kisses your nose, “I found you tube helpful,” he answers.

“Thank you,” you yawn.

He wraps your blanket around you a little more firmly and pushes play on another rom com, “It’s my pleasure,” he said softly, “You’re just so cute once you get warm and snuggly. Belly full of hot coco and wrapped up in blankets… It’s the only time you’re not a brat.” You crinkle your nose at him and he chuckles, “Better?” he asks seriously.

“Yeah, but-” you say hesitating.

“But,” he prompts gently. 

“Can I have more hot chocolate?” you ask, smiling a little.

He grins and kisses your cheek, “Only because you’ve been such a good girl,” he hummed, taking your mug to the kitchen. 

You listen to the sound of him humming tunelessly to himself in the kitchen as he worked on making you another cup of coco. It felt safe. It felt like a home having him fussing over you and making sure that you felt okay. It soothed places that you didn’t realize needed soothing until you had someone to be there to love you the way you deserved to be loved. It felt good. Almost as good as it would have felt if you’d been able to handle doing playtime.

Thor pause in the doorway, mug in hand and smiled softly. You were sound asleep before he’d even managed to bring you your drink. He tutted softly and set the mug down, bundling you into his arms tenderly, “Silly girl,” he murmured, “perfectly good coco is going to go to waste.” He lays you on the bed in the bedroom and takes a second to tuck you in lovingly, “But that’s alright,” he whispers, “I’m sure it wasn’t my best work.”


End file.
